


Stay A While?

by PresAlex



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Touch-Starved, with little comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PresAlex/pseuds/PresAlex
Summary: It’s been a while since Martin has seen another person. It isn’t for lack of trying. Not mostly, anyways.





	Stay A While?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freudiancascade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudiancascade/gifts).



> heh heh heh now martin i can definitely go in on for angst (tho this is still slightly soft oops its my brand)  
> this one was requested by jay B)  
> This is the first thing im posting for the magnus archives so! be kind! please!

It was startling to Martin exactly how exhausted he was. He wasn’t physically exhausted by any means. No, a healthy sleep schedule was one of the few healthy things he had maintained in the past six months. The train ride to and from work was dull, but he didn’t think it would be smart to give that part of his freedom up. Peter had been alright with his little rebellion that was maintaining a home away from the Institute for the first two months of their working together. It wasn’t necessarily that nowadays he had taken to trying to convince Martin to stay either. His disapproval came in the form of...quiet.

The train was empty that morning when Martin had gotten on. It had always been empty lately. There were staticky outlines of people in the coffee shop down the street instead of baristas. Martin had taken to bringing his own tea from home. If he had instead been disconnected from everyone, and disallowed from interacting, he could have possibly dealt with that. The fact that he could still see the ghosts of where people were in the normal, non-lonely reality was what got him. He’d prefer solitude if it didn’t mean being haunted by the reminder of it. The train doors opened, letting on a single foggy outline. Martin got off at the next stop to walk the rest of the way despite the rain and the remaining distance. For a moment he wondered if this was what people saw when he walked past them in this other-world, but he quickly stuffed the thought away and placed his headphones over his ears.

Even the music filtering through his headphones had a distinctly distorted quality to it. The undercurrents of the vocals sound as though they were coming at him from another room and the guitar strings sounded like they had been muffled with cotton. He turned up the volume, flipped up his jacket collar against the rain, and kept moving. When he got to the institute he purposefully greeted Rosie at the front office. Peter didn’t send him away usually when he was at work, but he knew even the little communication that the politeness brought would probably be enough to warrant a punishment later on. The little hustle and bustle that the institute regularly came with allowed him to breathe again. He just wanted to sit down in the staff room and soak in the conversation between staff members, but he had work to do. The elevator ride up to Peter’s office wasn’t long enough. He wondered in passing how long he could loiter in the elevator before leaving, but in the end, Peter was expecting him. The office door opened just as the elevator doors started to close again, so Martin stuck his hand out between the door to halt their closure.

There was a knowing smile on Peter’s face.

“How was Rosie?”

“She’s doing well. Much preferred the sun last week, but she’s glad she’s working inside at least.”

“I thought we agreed that–”

“I know. I’m not meant to interact.”

“Yes. You know, and yet you continue to go against our agreement. I know it doesn’t feel like you’re doing anything to help right now, Martin, but I assure you that when you break our promise, you’re really hurting the others in the long run. I’m just trying to help your friends as much as I can. You know that don’t you.”

“I’ll try harder next time.” He agreed haltingly, false apathy in his voice. He dug his nails into his palm where they were in his pockets. He did care about Jon, Melanie, Basira, everyone, but he also kept finding himself so alone. There was no way that was their fault of course. It was Peter who kept him busy and kept him away, but he wished someone would reach out.

“Thank you.” Peter smiled, clapping a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t an especially rough gesture by any means, but still, Martin felt himself flinch out of Peter’s touch. Peter hadn’t hurt him; he just hadn’t been...touched recently. Obviously. He wouldn’t know how to go about getting a hug when he was in the Other reality, and it wasn’t like his mother was much open to the idea of loving contact with him even when she was still...here. Realizing what he’d done, he felt his face colour. Peter continued smiling, “Now as I recall, you have some work to do! I shouldn’t keep you. There’s something you need to pick up from artefact storage for me as well if it isn’t too much trouble.”

It was obvious that Peter knew where he was sending him. To get to artefact storage he would have to walk down into the archives and past Jon’s office. One of the very offices he had been steadfastly avoiding. He had been doing a good job, in his opinion, of avoiding Melanie and Basira, but Jon had just gotten back and he hadn’t necessarily had much time to...avoid him. This had to be a test. Could he isolate himself even from the beholding even so close to its host or something. Without any way else to respond, Martin turned and slowly walked back to the elevator, resisting every part of himself that desperately screamed for him to run.

The walk to the Archives felt noticeably longer somehow than it usually did before Jon got back. The long stretched hallway faded into shadows ahead of him despite the fluorescent lights lining the roof. It gave Martin the distinct feeling that his vision was tunnelling, as though he was about to faint. He rolled his eyes at the antics of the Archive's resident god and pretended that he didn’t hear a tape recorder click on somewhere in the hall as soon as he pushed past the massive doors. They had gotten rid of every last one, but even in the past few weeks since Jon was back, tape recorders had been popping up in every room.

He made it all the way to artefact storage to pick up some strange necklace; He didn’t really know why Peter needed it–  _if_ he really needed it. Against his better judgement, he nodded in acknowledgement at Sonja as he walked past her. Very suddenly the shadows in his vision were replaced by streaks of numbing fog. He pretended he didn’t see it, but still staggered slightly as he continued walking. To his left a bit behind him, a door creaked curiously open.

“...Martin?”

Oh, perfect just what he was hoping wouldn’t happen. Well, he had already gone against his promise twice what was one more red streak to his ledger.

“Hi, Jon.”

“Martin!” Jon walked quickly over to him, hands hovering around him as though he was unsure as to whether or not this really was Martin Blackwood, “I hadn’t seen you since I woke up. Basira said you’ve been...busy.”

“I–Yes. I’ve been working with Peter Lukas. Have you been able to talk to him since he’s become the head of the institute?”

“I’m not really worried about him.”

“He _is_ your boss now,” Martin said, but Jon waved him off. Martin couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light or not, but Jon’s eyes, previously dark brown, were shimmering slightly gold, “Have you been busy? Since you’ve been back I mean.”

“Yes actually, I was just recording a statement when I heard someone walking outside," That might have explained the eyes, perhaps, "I was sure it couldn’t have been you. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you, you know.”

“I–I have to go,” Martin said abruptly, deciding he couldn’t deal with this at this very moment. He gestured with the little box in his hand, “Work and all that. Nice to see you awake, Jon.”

“I–Martin, just-just wait. Please?” Jon said, arm shooting out almost of its own accord, and wrapping around Martin’s shoulder. Once again, he felt himself jerk back as though Jon’s hands were on fire. His face heating up again, he started to apologize when Jon barrelled ahead, “Stay? I haven’t seen you. I was worried? Melanie won’t be in the same room as me, Basira doesn’t trust me and Tim–”

“Jon, I really can’t. You of all people should know this.” Martin’s eyebrows knit together in something bordering on panic. He really had to be going. Jon’s hands hesitated for a moment before once again reaching out, slower this time.

“I’m worried. I’ve been here, working, awake for almost a month now and I haven’t been able to See you.” Martin did not like the emphasis he put on the verb, “Just today? We can have tea. I think we could both use a break. I’m sure Peter wouldn’t mind. You don’t look...okay, Martin.”

Martin couldn’t find it in him to respond properly. His focus remained securely on Jon’s hand on his bicep. It was the clearest thing he’d experienced in months. There was no cold static in the warmth of Jon’s palm and he felt himself slowly lean in closer. Just this once. He could deal with the consequences later, but just this once he could–he could. His eyes blurred slightly and he threw himself against Jon, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and relishing in the golden feeling that partially embraced him, blocking out the fog at the edge of his vision. Jon slowly reached up to hug Martin back, awkwardly at first. It took everything in Martin’s power not to break down against Jon’s shoulder as he stood there. The hug couldn’t have lasted more than 10 seconds but Martin felt himself melting into it as though they had been standing there for hours. Jon had raised his scarred hand to pet the top of Martin’s head, placatingly. Martin’s hands grew cold.

And all of a sudden he was alone in the hallway. Of course, he wasn’t truly alone if you could consider the misty shape in front of him a person. The shape moved slowly as though wading through water, but Martin stood still for a moment, watching it look both ways down the hall and then abruptly turn in the direction that Martin needed to go. The cold that followed so soon after the warmth brought on by the hug left Martin feeling achy all over. After taking a moment to recollect himself, he turned in the same direction as the foggy figure that had left him and started his return back to Peter’s office. Served him right for getting his hopes up, he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter at @cryke_art


End file.
